Eurozone Crisis America style
by BlondieBrit
Summary: America tries to get the struggling European countries to a meeting since he's 'the hero' and knows best. This might become more than a one-shot if anyone likes it. SUGGESTED relationships but Spamano the most obvious . T for swearing


ENGLAND AND FRANCE

England awoke to the phone ringing. He had been struggling to sleep for weeks so he thought it typical that the phone chose this night to ring. Checking the time on his way to the phone, he was surprised to see it was 2 in the afternoon. The curtains were shut to keep him from reality; his boss had given him time off and that involved no interruptions, even from his magical friends. They knew that curtains closed meant he didn't want to talk.

"Hello?" he asked sleepily and held the phone away from his head as soon as he heard who it was.

"Yo, dude! You European pussies need the help of the hero! Get your shit together and head to Germany's place for a meeting next Thursday."

"America…"

"Meeting starts at 11. Bye then, old man!"

"America!" the line was dead. "Idiot. It's not as simple as that…"

England put the phone back on its stand and sighed, struggling to swallow due to his sore throat. He was a bit apprehensive about seeing everyone in the states that they would be in. Britain's situation, as worrying as it was, was nothing compared to the problems of others'.

The only country he'd been keeping regular contact with was France. They had been communicating by email, due to the French telephone companies being on strike so frequently, so he couldn't tell how he was doing. After a mental battle, England's fondness for his friend overpowered his need for isolation and he decided to try the phone. To his surprise he heard it ring. He waited for 8 rings until it got picked up and a weak voice sounded on the end.

"Oui? France." A loud noise that England assumed was the phone being dropped was accompanied by a horrible coughing fit that reminded England of someone with tuberculosis.

"France, pick up the phone…" he murmured and was relieved to hear his voice again.

"Excusez-moi...oui?" he asked again.

"You bloody frog, why didn't you tell me you were so ill? I'm coming round right now so you better have some tea ready for me."

"Ah, Angleterre." He sniffed and chuckled weakly, pathetically, and suddenly realised what England had said.

"No, absolutement non," he moaned. Feeling a mixture of hurt and irritation, England suddenly realised why.

"I don't –cough- care if you look like shit. That's the reason isn't it?"

"Of course it is! Mais are you well enough to drive?" He coughed again and England wished he were already there to comfort him.

"Drive? This is an emergency; the plane will do just fine. Don't die until I get there, alright?" There was silence on the other end and England chuckled, picturing France holding his breath.

"Fine. Well I'll see your corpse in 2 hours. Seriously, get me some tea."

"Oui… merci Angleterre."

"Alright, I'm hanging up now."

"Okay." He started coughing again.

"Damn it all, France. Just go to bed, I'll let myself in."

"See you soon."

"Yes you will, hang in there, old chap." England waited for a reply but France had hung up.

GREECE & JAPAN

Japan was staying at Greece's house since the man was so ill he could hardly move. Japan knelt down next to him and pressed the damp flannel to his head gently, struggling to hide his worry. It had been months without any hope of the economy improving; no way for Greece to get better.

"Be strong, Greece-kun," he whispered, wiping a strand of hair out of his face.

Greece's eyelids fluttered open and he looked around. Japan knew what he was looking for.

"I will be back momentarily." Japan stood up and found a cat sleeping on a cupboard. Not being able to reach it, Japan hoped Greece wouldn't notice that he had to stand on a chair to pick up the still-sleeping cat and somehow succeed in holding it to his chest whilst clambering back down.

The phone rang and Japan nearly jumped out of his skin; the previously serene sanctuary he'd created for Greece had been full of healing power and the stupid phone ruined it. Almost dropping the cat on Greece, he hurried off to the next room and picked up the phone to silence the shrill noise. Frostily he answered.

"Hai, this is Japan speaking."

"Yo Japan! Is Greece around?"

"He is too sick to talk. I can take a message if you so wish."

"Er, well tell him to be at Germany's place for next Thursday."

"America-san, how can he go to Germany if he can't have a phone conversation? I am very sorry, but you must leave him out. May I ask why you are involved in a European meeting?"

"Cos I'm the hero and am going to fix everything for them, since they fail at doing it themselves." Japan face-palmed.

"If you think that is best. Perhaps someone can send Greece-kun a copy of the minutes?"

"Sure thing, bro. Right, gotta go call the others now. Try and get Greece to go, yeah?"

"Goodbye America." Japan put the phone down and padded back into Greece's room. The man was still, except for a slight movement in his fingers as he stroked the cat weakly.

"America wants you at a meeting in Germany. I told him you were unable to go… was I right to do so?" he knelt by the bed again and waited expectantly for a reply.

"I'll stay here," he breathed.

"Hai, and I will stay with you." Japan picked up the project he was working on earlier; an origami cat.

ROMANO & SPAIN

"Wake up Spain, I've got you some food so you'd better eat it!"

Romano stormed into Spain's room and sat on the bed next to him with a bowl of chopped tomatoes. Spain's pillow was soaked with sweat and his fever was making him delirious; thinking that he was a pirate and Romano a ghost had both happened in the past 24 hours. Romano had cooked him all sorts of delicious food but Spain hadn't wanted anything. This was his last idea.

"Come on tomato bastard, you've got to eat!" Romano blinked back tears as he saw how ill Spain was getting. He no longer smiled and was getting too thin from refusing to eat. His fever made his normally healthy complexion look pale and ill and he'd hardly got up for days. Romano dragged Spain up into a sitting position and grabbed his chin, forcing a piece of tomato between his lips. To his intense relief, Spain opened his mouth and chewed slowly, swallowing. Romano smiled and fed him another. Spain was falling asleep after a few pieces but Romano let him; it was improvement.

He flipped the pillow over to the cool side and let the sleeping Spain down gently before sorting out the duvet and looking hungrily at the tomatoes remaining. He quickly finished them off and left Spain to sleep. On his way out, he cast one last worried look towards Spain before leaving.

Tripping over a towel on the landing, Romano caught the bowl before it smashed on the floor but the tension in his stomach made him rush to the bathroom and throw up what little he had consumed that day. After a few minutes of retching up nothing, he let some tears fall and wiped his face with toilet paper before flushing the toilet and heading to the sink to get clean. He splashed some water on his face and started to shiver but a pair of arms gently wrapped around him as Spain looked back at him through the mirror.

"You said you were feeling better, little tomato." His voice sounded so sad that Romano found himself feeling guilty.

"It doesn't matter, bastard, just get better yourself," he told him, blushing. Spain had brought his glass of water with him and handed it to Romano.

"Snack was nice."

"Good. Trust you to like that more than all the things that took me ages to make! Stupid Spain." The ghost of a smile traced Spain's features as Romano took the glass and sipped at it, still feeling queasy. The phone started to ring and the two looked at each other before Spain patted Romano's shoulder and headed for the stairs to get to the one phone that hadn't been unplugged by a once-very-angry-very-sleepy Italian.

"BASTARD, you are not going downstairs, you'll fall and break your neck!" Romano tried to ignore the need to be sick again as he got to the door but decided it wouldn't be wise and rushed back to the toilet to throw up the water.

Spain, meanwhile, had reached the phone with no mishaps and tried to sound cheerful as usual.

"Hola? This is Spain."

"Spain, dude you sound great! We've got a meeting at Germany's place next Thursday. Can you make it?"

"A meeting? Si, I should think so. Can my little tomato come too?"

"Yeah, you mean Romano right? That's great."

"See you on Thurs…" suddenly the phone was snatched away and Romano shouted down to America.

"What are you talking about? Tomato bastard is going nowhere, he is ill and I am leaving my innocent little brother with potato bastard so I can look after Spain! Don't even think about taking him anywhere! Who is this anyway?"

"…America."

"Well, America. You will not be seeing either of us at your stupid meeting with your stupid agenda!" He made to slam the phone down but Spain quickly pulled it from his grasp, ignoring the murderous look from Romano.

"We will see you Thursday."


End file.
